The candlelight flickered.
Yuan Jue darted out of the post station, his silhouette swift as lightning as he headed toward the Sand City.
The night was deep.
A gray hawk silently landed by the window, its yellow sharp beak pecking at the crumbling dried mud of the earthen wall.
Tanmoluojia stretched out his hand. The hawk immediately raised its head and flapped its wings at him. He took out a copper ring, attached it to the hawk’s talon, and gently stroked the bird.
The hawk let out a muffled cooing sound before spreading its wings and flying into the night sky.
He stood at the window, gazing at the pitch-black heavens, his eyes as clear as water.
Ashina Bisuo, Yuan Jue, the death guard who just came to deliver the message, the imperial guards maintaining appearances at the royal court’s stone caves, Princess Wenzhao… Only these few knew that the Regent was outside Sand City. These people were his imperial guards who had sworn allegiance to him since childhood, remaining utterly loyal and would never reveal his secrets.
Princess Wenzhao was the exception.
The candle was extinguished by the night wind blowing through the cracks, sending up wisps of smoke. From next door came soft sleep-talking.
Tanmoluojia came back to his senses and returned to the inner room where the brazier burned.
The room was pitch dark, with warm air trapped within the gauze curtains, making it as warm as spring. Yao Ying lay on her side among the felt blankets, sleeping soundly, occasionally making unclear murmurs in her dreams.
Tanmoluojia bent down, sat cross-legged, and continued his meditation.
The murmuring suddenly turned into terrified cries.
Tanmoluojia opened his eyes.
In the dim light, Yao Ying sleeping opposite him had not awakened, but her body was twisting restlessly. Unknown what she was dreaming of, her brows were tightly knitted, both hands clutching the blanket, fine beads of sweat appearing on her snow-white face.
Tanmoluojia recalled when she fell ill in Gaochang. Initially, she might have been trying to probe his identity, often finding excuses to approach him along the way. Later when she truly fell ill, she no longer deliberately investigated his identity. No matter how many oddities she discovered about him, she didn’t ask a single question, still trusting and staying close to him, disregarding even the distinction between men and women.
Many people admired and revered him, but she was the only one who maintained an almost naive trust in his other identity.
Yao Ying’s brows knitted even tighter as her whole body began to tremble.
Earlier when encountering Zhu Lvyun, she had lost focus for a moment before quickly suppressing her worry and regaining her spirits. Now asleep, her entire being relaxed, and the fears of two years of wandering and the terror of being unable to change Li Zhongqian’s fate surged into her dreams. She again dreamed of Li Xuanzhen killing Li Zhongqian, helplessly running across the battlefield strewn with corpses, calling out for her brother again and again.
Run, run quickly.
Yao Ying’s hands clutching the blanket tensed until they were rigid and twisted.
Tanmoluojia frowned, stood up, walked to Yao Ying’s side, bent down, and gently pulled away her hands, removing her gloves. The medicine on her wounds had already been rubbed off.
Her fingers suddenly tightened, gripping his hand firmly, like a drowning person suddenly spotting a floating log, holding on tight, like delicate vines entangling, soft yet resilient.
Tanmoluojia didn’t pull his hand away from Yao Ying’s grip. His empty right hand opened the medicine box and reapplied medicine to her wounds. After wiping his hands clean, he lowered his eyes, his full lips moving as he softly recited scriptures.
In his childhood, whenever nightmares plagued him, he would recite scriptures.
“Bodhisattva, relying on Prajna Paramita, with no hindrances in the mind, no hindrances and therefore no fears, far away from deluded dreams, ultimately Nirvana…”
He didn’t deliberately lower his voice. His clear, cold voice with its pleasant tone carried a peculiar rhythm.
The chanting, devoid of joy or sorrow, meandered melodiously, merging into a vast oceanic tide, breaking through illusions. The scenes in the dream dissipated like smoke, and Yao Ying, sensing something in her heart, gradually calmed down.
Half asleep and half awake, her eyelashes trembled slightly.
The room had no candles lit, the brazier’s flame was weak, and a figure sat beside her like a Buddha statue.
In her hazy consciousness, Yao Ying couldn’t see clearly but inexplicably felt very secure. She closed her eyes and fell into deep sleep.
After a while, hearing her breathing become deep and even, Tanmoluojia rose and returned to his original position.
Outside the window, snow fell silently.
Yao Ying slept sweetly through the night, and when she woke, it was already daylight.
She lay under the blanket, warm and comfortable all over.
Yao Ying was stunned for a moment, unable to remember when she had fallen asleep. She quickly got up and saw Tanmoluojia still sitting opposite her in meditation. Her movements immediately became very careful.
Bright daylight shone through the high window into the room. From the dazzling light wavering before the curtain, it appeared to be a bright sunny day.
Yao Ying hadn’t expected to sleep so deeply and felt secretly annoyed. She rubbed her eyes and tiptoed to Tanmoluojia’s side, leaning close to carefully examine his complexion. Seeing he looked somewhat haggard, she felt even more guilty.
She wondered if he had experienced any attacks last night.
Yao Ying stared unblinkingly at Tanmoluojia’s face, lost in thought, her warm breath brushing against his neck.
He opened his eyes and glanced at her.
Seeing him awake, Yao Ying moved even closer: “I accidentally fell asleep last night. Is the General alright?”
“Fine.”
“Is the General feeling better today?”
Tanmoluojia nodded slightly.
Yao Ying sighed in relief, stood up and moved back, lifted the gauze curtains, and opened the window to disperse the stale air.
There were several knocks on the door as the attendant brought clear water, a plate of various sized and shaped nang bread, and mutton.
Yao Ying covered her face with a veil, accepted the items, first filtered the water, brought a portion to Tanmoluojia, then broke off a piece of nang bread to eat herself, and after telling him, went downstairs.
The hall’s brazier burned vigorously, voices thundered, and merchants from north and south of the Congling gathered together, sitting in twos and threes on felt carpets, engaged in loud conversations in different languages.
“Princess Wenzhao!”
Yao Ying’s heart tightened, her heart pounding wildly, fingers digging deep into her palm, but her face remained composed as she calmly looked toward the voice.
A group of royal court merchants wearing pointed caps with brocade edges and reversible brocade robes sat around the brazier, holding plates, grabbing roasted mutton while discussing something, each with a ruddy face and wearing meaningful smiles.
Yao Ying immediately realized the royal court merchants were just discussing her, which was why they had called out her title so loudly. Her heart relaxed, and she steadied herself.
She asked the attendant for a plate of roasted meat, found an inconspicuous corner, sat cross-legged like others, grabbed the mutton, and listened carefully to what everyone was saying.
The royal court merchant who had just laughed loudly asked others: “Another princess has arrived recently?”
Another merchant answered: “Indeed! This time it’s the Northern Rong Princess.”
A wave of surprised voices rose from the crowd.
Everyone discussed: “Does the Northern Rong Princess also believe in Buddha? Don’t they believe in some wolf god and claim to be descendants of divine wolves?”
One person snorted coldly, rolling his eyes at others’ limited knowledge, and after successfully attracting everyone’s attention, said somewhat proudly: “I often deal with Northern Rong people. In recent years, many noble ladies of the Northern Rong royal court have converted to Buddhism, even the Wahan Khan’s aunt has learned to make offerings. There’s a legend in Northern Rong that the Buddha’s Son is Ananda reincarnated, with profound Buddhist dharma and boundless spiritual power, born to protect the royal court and able to suppress all evil spirits, safeguarding the royal court’s stability, undefeatable! Whoever dares to attack the royal court protected by the Buddha’s Son will be cursed. Many Northern Rong people deeply believe this legend. When Wahan Khan went to war, even their priests advised the Khan not to oppose the Buddha’s Son. What’s strange about the Northern Rong Princess believing in Buddha?”
Everyone suddenly understood. In recent years, whenever Northern Rong attacked the royal court, as long as the Buddha’s Son personally led the army, Northern Rong would inevitably be defeated. The Northern Rong people were terrified, and their conversion to Buddhism wasn’t surprising.
No wonder after each Khan’s defeat, Northern Rong would experience internal turmoil, and the Khan would be greatly frightened – all due to fear of the Buddha’s Son’s reputation!
After sighing for a while, someone asked: “Have you seen the Northern Rong Princess? Is she more beautiful, or is the Indian Princess escorted to the Holy City by Indian warriors more beautiful?”
One person excitedly said: “I saw Princess Manda from India in Viramala. Princess Manda has amber-colored eyes, as brilliant as the beauty flowers on the Celestial Mountains, more beautiful than the Northern Rong Princess!”
Others agreed. Viramala was the capital of one of countless small Indian kingdoms. Merchants had traded spices with Indian merchants there. Princess Manda was a famous local beauty who often rode elephants to play by the riverbank, and many had seen her.
Discussing the beauty of Princess Manda and the Northern Rong Princess, everyone spoke their minds in a clamor of voices.
Amid the argument, someone clapped their hands and smiled: “How does she compare to Princess Wenzhao?”
The hall suddenly fell silent, with only the crackling sound of burning remaining.
Yao Ying’s eyelid twitched, and she almost choked.
In the silence, someone softly broke the quiet: “Princess Wenzhao’s beauty is like a goddess, I think Princess Wenzhao is more beautiful.”
The merchant who had previously spoken for Princess Manda disagreed and retorted: “Princess Wenzhao is a Han woman, no matter how beautiful she is, she can’t compare to the Indian Princess!”
Seeing the two sides unable to reach an agreement, someone laughed heartily and stepped in as a peacemaker: “Your opinions don’t count. Whoever the Buddha’s Son finds beautiful is the true goddess.”
Everyone stopped arguing, looked at each other, and shook their heads with smiles.
In the corner, Yao Ying was momentarily speechless, wondering: Why were these merchants comparing the beauty of the princesses? And why did various countries send a princess to the royal court to celebrate the Buddha’s Son’s birthday?
From the merchants’ tone when discussing this matter, these princesses weren’t merely coming to the royal court to pay respects to Buddha.
The hall was filled with a buzzing of conversations as the merchants changed topics to discuss Tanmoluojia’s birthday.
“The Buddha’s Son is still in seclusion, don’t know when he’ll preach at the royal temple again, my mother has been waiting for over a month.”
“I heard from the temple monks that the Buddha’s Son’s seclusion lasts at least half a month, at most three months, it should be soon.”
“Next month is the Buddha’s Son’s birthday, he’ll hold a dharma assembly.”
…
As they discussed, the topic suddenly returned to Yao Ying: “With the Buddha’s Son in seclusion, Princess Wenzhao hasn’t appeared for a long time either.”
“I heard Princess Wenzhao is infatuated with the Buddha’s Son. After he went into seclusion, she devoutly recites scriptures every day, watching over him without eating or drinking, never stepping out of the great hall, becoming almost skin and bones.”
Someone exclaimed: “Wouldn’t that damage the Princess’s beauty?”
“How else could she move the Buddha’s Son without doing this?”
…
Yao Ying looked down at the roasted mutton on her plate, her mouth twitching slightly: Not eating or drinking daily would not only damage beauty but would be fatal.
The merchants gradually finished their breakfast, getting up to trade goods in the market.
Yao Ying put down her plate and slowly went upstairs, her brows slightly furrowed.
The merchants conversed in various dialects, and she could only understand part of it, but between guessing and asking the attendant a few questions, she could roughly piece together what had happened in the royal court during her absence.
Tanmoluojia had informed various countries, and the rumors about her and him had spread to the Shulek area through merchants’ word of mouth.
Coinciding with Tanmoluojia’s birthday, the diplomatic missions sent by various countries had just departed when they hurriedly sent their princesses, reasoning that the princesses admired the Buddha’s Son’s demeanor and came to the royal court to worship relics and pray for their subjects.
That Indian Princess Manda had previously been traveling with her father on a diplomatic mission to Shulek. When her father learned that Yao Ying was staying at the Buddhist temple, he quickly sent a state letter and had people escort Manda to the royal court, requesting the Buddha’s Son to care for her on his behalf.
There were also princesses from Kucha, Khotan, and tribal princesses…
The royal court merchants spoke of all the princesses with ambiguous tones, deliberately comparing them with Yao Ying.
Various signs indicated: These princesses had all come for Tanmoluojia.
Yao Ying’s steps became heavy, her scalp tingling.
The royal court was prosperous, and Tanmoluojia was its ruler. He had defeated Wahan Khan several times, holding back the unstoppable Northern Rong outside the northern route, allowing various small countries north and south of the Congling to catch their breath. If he weren’t a monk, all countries would have eagerly sought marriage alliances with him. Because he was a monk, these countries hadn’t brought up the matter of marriage alliances.
Now that he had made an exception to protect her, these small countries were all stirring.
Yao Ying could imagine how Banruo would jump up and down scolding her after returning to the royal court: Look, all this trouble was caused by you! You’ve defiled our King!
Tanmoluojia certainly wouldn’t care about these matters, but since these issues arose because of her, she couldn’t pretend not to know.
The cause was her, so she had to think of a way to deal with it.
Yao Ying’s mind raced with schemes.
She needed to find a way to resolve these troubles, preferably once and for all to dispel everyone’s thoughts, while not harming Tanmoluojia’s reputation.